


an old and practiced reconfiguration

by mollivanders



Series: collected rebelcaptain prompt-a-thons [4]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, First Fight, Gen, Hugs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2017-06-08
Packaged: 2018-11-11 09:45:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11145897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mollivanders/pseuds/mollivanders
Summary: She skids around a corner, catching her breath, when she sees him about to board a shuttle.In the next moment, he sees her.Instinct propels her across the distance, and he’s already made it off the shuttle ramp by the time she collides with him, practically running him over as she buries him into a hug. He recovers quickly enough, his arms easily finding their place around her, and she burrows her head in his chest, still chasing her breath.





	an old and practiced reconfiguration

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jaded](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaded/gifts).



> Written for the Tumblr [platonic kiss and hug ask meme](http://ladytharen.tumblr.com/post/159996465894/send-a-ill-generate-a-number-platonic) \- I pulled this one apart because it ended up being over 1k. The rest are collected [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10737090/chapters/23797743). Jaded gave me the prompt of "an emotional hug". Title comes from the _Rogue One_ novelization.

It’s a fight – their first real fight after Eadu – that starts it all.

They’d been assigned to an extraction team, moving refugees off an Imperial base, when their cover is blown. Imperial sirens blare throughout the encampment and Jyn scrambles for the ship’s hatch, hoping desperately to save one more person, just one, when Cassian pulls her back and slams the hatch shut.

(As the ship takes off, she can hear the panicked yelling just outside the hull, dozens of villagers left behind – men, women, children, all at the Empire’s mercy.)

She stares at him, panting with surprised outrage as she realizes what happened. The silence builds between them and the rescued villagers shuffle out of the way, Jyn’s eyes burning and Cassian standing his ground. The ship takes off and Jyn puts a hand to the bulkhead to steady herself, finding her voice.

“We could have saved more,” she says and the ship trembles as the shields take the brunt of an attack. Distantly, she hears Bodhi yelling at Kay to finish the lightspeed calculations, but her focus is needle sharp. Cassian says nothing, his jaw set. “ _I_ could have saved more,” she insists. It’s hard to be intimidating when he has a good seventeen centimeters on her, but she does her best. Cassian looks down at her, eyes dark, and shakes his head as she searches his face for understanding.

“We couldn’t risk it,” he says, catching at the top of the bulkhead as the ships lurches to safety. “Couldn’t _risk_ it?!” she asks, her voice rising, incredulous. She can feel adrenaline pounding in her blood and she shoves him away from her as Cassian narrows his eyes, clearly holding back. “The whole _rebellion_ is a risk! We promised them! Do you not even care?”

(Her last sight of them – barely better off than slaves, freezing in the ice and cold of the desolate moon – swims before her and her breath burns in her lungs.)

She can barely _look_ at him.

He gestures at the villagers clustered around the ship, his shoulders rising with frustration. “We don’t _make_ promises,” he retorts, and her blood pounds in her ears as he flares to life. This is good, this she knows. “If I let you go back, and we waited for you, what do you think would have happened?” he asks as though she doesn’t know, and she crosses her arms in defense. “You would have been left behind, _dead_ , or we would all be dead. I couldn’t let that happen.”

“We could have _tried_ ,” she hisses and turns on her heel. “We could have _fought_.” The trail she leaves behind her is empty, colder than space. She can feel his eyes on her as she ducks belowdecks, shaking with anger – anger at Cassian, anger at the Empire, anger at the Rebellion for being so damn _futile_.

(The flight back to Hoth is long, quiet, and solitary.)

+

In some ways, she knows this fight is similar to their last. Cassian has always put the Rebellion first, and his principles guide him around caverns that she herself might stumble into. Still, she maintains there was time.

(Even seconds, milliseconds, could save a life.)

By the time they make it back home, her anger has turned to frustration and the memory of hurt. She _cannot_ be around him. She feels on the edge of breaking into a thousand vulnerable pieces, and nobody could push her over the edge like Cassian – or help her like Cassian.

So she stays away.

(Her bed is cold, her heart aches, but she stays away.)

He lets her. She spies him around her, on the periphery of her space, but every time she thinks of going to him, an old accusation rings in her head – _you’re not the only one who lost everything_ – and she flinches away.

Two days bleed into three bleed into five and her words have choked up her throat until she has nothing left to say to anyone, let alone Cassian.

(She doesn’t know how to be like this around him.)

Halfway through repairing a U-wing, the Skywalker kid finds her, swinging under the ship with more ease than he has a right to at his age. She doesn’t think she ever had his cheerful confidence, tempered over time, and envies the youth that still clings to him.

“Erso,” he says, his voice friendly as ever, passing her a wrench and peering into the underside of the ship. “That stabilizer looks pretty banged up.”

She nods, focusing on the task at hand, and pulls hard at the stubborn bolt denying her access. It comes loose all at once, throwing her off balance, and she scrapes her palm on the hangar floor as she catches herself. Skywalker doesn’t say anything but she can almost sense his bemused concern at her overcompensation.

“Need something?” she asks, looking over her shoulder, and Skywalker shakes his head. “I’ve fixed my share of stabilizers,” he says and points at the open access port. “Those wires need to be replaced.”

 _How can he tell?_ she thinks but brushes it off. Skywalker was many things, but he wasn’t full of bantha shit. _Requisitions_ , she thinks, moving to slide out from under the ship when Skywalker lightly touches her shoulder. “Might want to stop by Quadrant B first,” he says, his tone deceptively light. “Captain Andor is heading out again.”

She stares at him, confusion and fear coiling in her gut. She barely has time to wonder how he knows _any_ of what he knows before she’s out from under the ship and sprinting across the hangar, praying to whatever spirits are listening that he hasn’t left yet. She skids around a corner, catching her breath, when she sees him about to board a shuttle.

In the next moment, he sees her.

Instinct propels her across the distance, and he’s already made it off the shuttle ramp by the time she collides with him, practically running him over as she buries him into a hug. He recovers quickly enough, his arms easily finding their place around her, and she burrows her head in his chest, still chasing her breath.

“I couldn’t let you go like that,” she says when she has the air and feels him curl his head next to hers.

“Are you still mad?” he asks, and there is a guarded note to his voice that pushes her, breaks her into a thousand pieces.

(Just as she knew he would.)

“I’m always mad,” she murmurs, craning her neck to look up at him. Guarded as he is, she can still read him and she sighs heavily. “But not at you. Not like that.”

His gaze, inscrutable to so many others, whirls with emotion to her and she wants to explain, to tell him more, to _try_ , before he shuts his eyes, curling back next to her.

“You’re right to be angry,” he murmurs. “There’s a lot to be angry about.”

It isn’t an apology, it doesn’t bring back life, but somehow – always – the galaxy tips a little less out of balance. She finds herself a little more hopeful.

(They stay there, breaths falling into sync, until the ship whirs to life behind them.)

_Finis_

**Author's Note:**

> I'm [ladytharen](http://ladytharen.tumblr.com) on Tumblr if you want to say hi :)


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